


a little death on the highway

by lunacrowne



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Apathy, Gun Violence, M/M, Romance, Smoking, Theft, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, slight 60's AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 22:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10773384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunacrowne/pseuds/lunacrowne
Summary: The endless road is a fitting place for desire; the nameless highway perfect for succumbing to a little death. Youngjae knows it will be the best kind of death, as long as he's with Daehyun.





	a little death on the highway

Youngjae reclines in his seat on the passenger side of their new car, a Thunderbird this time, propping his elbows against the window. The cool midnight breeze ruffles his hair comfortably as he watches the blur of surroundings speed past him. The windows are rolled down far enough for one of his arms to dangle perilously above the moving road, teasing what it could be like to just _fall_. Staring too long at the never-ending road makes his eyelids grow heavy, but before he can doze off a wandering hand brushes against his shoulder gently. 

“You're falling asleep on me again, baby,” 

The radio is set on some repetitive slow jams he's now indifferent to. He doesn't attempt to move from where he's nestled, the buzz from earlier already wearing off and wearing his patience a little. But the hand's owner is persistent in rousing him from his drowsiness, if caressing his thigh was any indication, and Youngjae turns towards the direction of Daehyun's voice

“Maybe because you're too much of a bore,” Youngjae replies, shifting away from the window to sidle up closer against the driver's seat. “You've gotten my attention, happy now?”

“Of course.” The same wandering hand travels up his thigh suggestively, making his breath hitch. Youngjae can make out Daehyun’s wolfish grin in the dim light. “Am I now? You get bored so easily. That's why I have to keep you entertained,”

“Later,” Youngjae playfully slaps Daehyun's hand away. “Can't you wait a bit?”

"Motel's still a long ways ahead. " Daehyun's fingers are thrumming restlessly against the steering wheel. He's always been the awfully impatient type, especially after one of their gigs. "And I want you now,"

"You really are impatient," Youngjae huffs. He shares a glance with Daehyun and they reach an unspoken understanding anyway, Daehyun veering off the highway onto a dirt road. Youngjae's always liked the way Daehyun gazes at him when he's in the mood, pumping adrenaline and pent up energy evident in his eyes, so he won't say no.

"Don't want to take you on some shitty Motel 6 bed," he justifies to Youngjae, grinning from ear to ear.

They don't make it to the motel anyway.

The endless road is a fitting place for desire; the nameless highway perfect for succumbing to a little death. Youngjae knows it will be the best kind of death, as long as he's with Daehyun. 

The backseat's fit for two, quick and hot and heavy. The windows fog up a nice shade of white, perfect for covering up their misgivings. Youngjae holds onto the headrest for leverage as he gyrates circles in Daehyun's lap, his nails scraping satisfyingly against the upholstery when Daehyun works his hands under his shirt. Their lips are relentless and hungry against each other, the rest of their clothing pooling onto the car floor until they're just a tangle of limbs.

The moonlight casts lines over Daehyun's tanned body, highlighting the strip of wrist his tattoo accentuates so well as he moves on top of Youngjae. He’ll relish in the pleasurable smother that comes from the close proximity of their bodies. Because it's always during the rush of these nights, high off the exhilaration of cheap thrills, that Daehyun reminds him of how alive he truly is. Youngjae finds it hard to breathe in the cramped space, yet he continues to deprive himself of air in favor of keeping their mouths connected, Daehyun suffocating willingly with him. The lightheaded feeling is enough for Youngjae to quiver and spill white over their stomachs, failing to seek purchase on anything except slippery glass. Daehyun grunts softly as he releases inside him, leaving them both breathing hard and sprawled out just barely on the sticky leather seats.

Youngjae redresses later, perching himself on the hood of the car. He clasps the final button of his shirt back into place, the heat of their encounter already fading away from his skin. The desert is chilly at night, he thinks biting thoughtfully on the unlit cigarette in his mouth. He shouldn't really be having this, but what harm could it do for a little fun. It helps him not think too much. With the car doors open, the windows are slowly clearing up.

“You really can see every fuckin’ star out here,” Daehyun murmurs with awe as he emerges from the car holding a blanket and the suitcase, having only bothered to toss his own shirt haphazardly over himself.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, hm?”

"Just dreaming." Youngjae mumbles around the cancer stick.

“Yeah? And how big you dreamin'?"

“You’d like to know that, wouldn't you?” Youngjae receives a kiss on the side of his mouth before Daehyun lights up the smoke between his lips and takes it from him. He gets handed the suitcase in exchange. “It's freezing out here,”

"I'll warm you up. Warm you up jus’ fine," Daehyun says, settling Youngjae in his lap with throaty laughter before draping the blanket over them both. He runs his fingers through the tousled strands of Youngjae’s dark auburn hair, taking a drag from the freshly-lit smoke. It’s soothing the way Daehyun always does it, the way his coarse hands hold him close to his chest. 

Youngjae unclasps the latches of the smooth leather case and pulls out the first wad of cash, starting to count the bills lying in his lap.

“How much?” It’s not like Daehyun cares how much exactly they have—he never had the habit of bothering to check when he knew the means of achieving more—but he asks to humor Youngjae nonetheless.

“Enough. For two towns over would be my best guess,” Youngjae remarks as he lets the bills drop, reaching an arm up to pluck the cigarette from Daehyun’s mouth and take a few puffs for himself.

"This’ll be good for us, you know.” Youngjae knows what Daehyun's talking about. There's still a chance for them to quit it someday and get themselves a place. Someplace off the highway, past the border, where maybe they can get a fresh start. It's not too much to ask for, though Youngjae doesn't expect much. He doesn’t know if a place like that for them even exists.

“Mhm,” Youngjae hums. The carved bottle cap pendant hanging around his neck swings as he shifts against Daehyun. He had watched Daehyun carve the frail metal with flicks of his wrist and a switchblade on the night of their consummation. It cinched Youngjae’s skin sometimes but it was an unspoken promise only Daehyun could offer.

Daehyun notices this and fiddles with the pendant sporting a pleased expression, pushing him down against the car hood with the intent on finishing what they had started.

A small thump, unmistakably coming from the trunk, catches their attention.

Youngjae grazes his knuckles lightly on the hood. “It’s about time we let him out, shouldn't we?”

“I forgot about him. Wonder if he's still alive?" Daehyun unwillingly releases Youngjae from his hold with a frustrated sigh, going for the glove compartment. Youngjae lets the blanket fall and stubs out the cigarette on the metal. He strides over to the trunk, sparing Daehyun a glance before popping the latch open.

They haul a bounded and gagged man from the car and set him on the dusty ground. Without the glare of harsh club lights concealing his face, his features would pass as handsome, if not streaked with tears.

“C’mon now, up and at ‘em.” Daehyun prods at the man’s legs with the toe of his boot, coaxing him into prostration with the pointed muzzle of his gun.

“Earlier this evenin’ I believe you laid your hands on something that wasn't yours,” Daehyun regards the man coldly, twisting his face in Youngjae's direction. It's laughable this is the same man that had tried forcing himself onto Youngjae not even two hours ago, copping unwelcomed touches with his sleazy hands before he pushed him away. “So what've you got to say for yourself?”

As soon as Youngjae slips the cloth gag off, the man spills pleads and promises of ‘telling nobody’ if they let him go. It continues on for a long while, grating on Youngjae's nerves so much that he eventually replaces the gag. He hated it when they talked like that.

“Oh, you're no fun, are you? What a shame. I guess we're done talking,” Daehyun cocks his gun, raising it level to the man’s eyes. “Thanks for the car, we’ll take care of it for you from now on.”

The following shot rings out hollowly into the night but Youngjae’s used to it now, seeing Daehyun kill people. It’s just a meaningless act of violence.

Daehyun saunters back up to him all smiles, thumbing at Youngjae's cheek briefly when he passes by. “Didn't feel like letting him walk either. Let's get back inside,”

Leaving the man alive without water and two hands tied behind his back would've been the same as a death sentence out here. Youngjae doesn't think too much on it—he had stuck his nose into their business at the wrong place and the wrong time, anyway—turning up the radio instead and waiting for the lit vacancy sign of the next motel.

  


—

  


It's a perpetual game for them, where they toy with the prospect of getting caught. They take what they want whenever they can and they don't stay in one place for too long. It's not always gas stations and convenience stores. Some days it's a small town mom ‘n pop when it's close-by and there's nobody watching, or a roadside diner that keeps a getaway clean.

And then some days they don’t do anything like that, just keep on driving and driving aimlessly to someplace or destination they aren’t really sure of—the ongoing symptom of getting to _somewhere that ain’t here_ —and steal kisses instead of cash in their own slice of Americana.

That was at the start, when the highway brought something new and exciting all the time. But now the roads end up blurring together and everything looks the same. Even Daehyun's falling into routine, but he doesn't seem to mind it even when they end up cutting it a little too close.

Youngjae's not sure if he wants to keep running forever though.

“How’s it looking?”

Daehyun asks Youngjae as they pull into the empty gas station. Youngjae counts a lone attendant by the windows of the lighted convenience store. Small fry for a quiet night, not that he was expecting much out here.

“Easy.”

“Look alive, babe. You want your fun. You’ll get it.” Daehyun adds, craning his head to place quick kiss on Youngjae’s lips. The smell of gasoline permeates Youngjae’s senses. It's pleasant, the scent mingling with the taste of licorice malt off of Daehyun's tongue. Daehyun reaches over Youngjae’s crossed legs on the dashboard, giving his thighs a hearty slap before opening the glove compartment for his gun.

“Why don't you go in and pick some things out first?” Daehyun suggests. “Anything you’d like. I'll be ready once I fill 'er up.”

“Alright. Don't take too long.”

"I won't keep you waiting." Daehyun replies.

The tinkling bell of the door welcomes Youngjae into the convenience store, followed by the disinterested greeting from the clerk manning the register. The heater is on low here and his thin sweatshirt is just that little bit too warm.

Youngjae flashes a small smile back, making a show of picking out some candy and ice cream as he paces down the empty aisles. There’s a stack of adult magazines on a rack and for fun Youngjae selects the best of the lot —the cover depicting individuals engaged in the raunchiest positions. He finishes up the quick charade when he hears the revving of engines outside, by bringing an armful of treats they don’t particularly need to the counter.

The clerk, upon closer inspection, is just a teenaged boy. He houses a bored look in his eyes, and reminds Youngjae a lot of himself. Reminds him of the things he hates.The clerk puts down the travel magazine he's reading to ring up his purchase, eyeing Youngjae strangely.

“Will that be all...?” He asks, seemingly having decided that whatever it was about Youngjae that had piqued his interest earlier certainly warranted a prolonged glance.

“That's all,” Youngjae rips open the packaging of an ice cream bar and indulges in an experimental lick. It amuses Youngjae that the teenager’s eyes are indiscreetly raking up and down his features despite his feigned disinterest. Youngjae leans against the counter knowingly. “But would you be willing to help me with something else?”

“Of course—” The clerk seems to come to a realization, a spark of recognition, when he bags the items in plastic.

“We’d like to get everything in the register as well.”

“Huh?”

“All the cash. Everything, and don't think I'm playing around,” Daehyun grins upon entering the store, brandishing his gun at the clerk.

The teenager’s eyes widen at the weapon, spluttering but ultimately complying. He opens the register drawer under Daehyun’s vigilant watch and dumps it all out.

instructs for the clerk to bag the cash. “All the change goes in the bag. No funny business now.”

“I've heard of you two,” the clerk mentions in an effort to keep his voice steady. "You're the ones responsible for that arson spree a few counties back. Ever since then you've been doing robberies."

“Someone's been keeping up. You intending on lecturin’ us?”

"Only to tell you that for people like you, there's only one way it's going to end." The clerk shifts his gaze from the barrel of Daehyun's gun to Youngjae. “You gonna let him call the shots for you?”

"That's enough.” Daehyun glances at Youngjae, lips quirking up in a mildly entertained expression. "Why don't you grab the cash and step out for a bit while I talk with our new friend here?"

Youngjae steps out, pulling the hood over his head as the sounds behind him get muffled behind the glass door. He closes his eyes and tries savoring the rest of his cold sweet but suddenly the flavor of processed vanilla tastes as hollow as the gunshot resounding through the store. The ice cream bar gets tossed onto the ground and he watches it melt into the pool of muddled liquid on the asphalt.

Daehyun reemerges a moment later, spinning Youngjae around to face him. Youngjae shivers slightly when Daehyun runs the warm metal over his skin, outlining against his jugular.

“You killed him?” Youngjae asks, catching a glimpse of the bloodied body lying underneath the crushed glass of the cigarette cabinet behind the counter.

“I didn't like the way he looked at you.”

“I know you didn't," Youngjae simpers quietly.

“So this is what you wanted…" Daehyun smiles, producing a box of matches from his jacket pocket and shuffling out one. "You _do_ get jealous too."

"And now you've left a mess here."

“Doesn't matter. This place ended up being a hick joint anyway.”

He strikes the match and tosses it into the pool of gasoline he left pouring out of the pump earlier, setting the station behind them on fire.

“I'll enjoy watchin’ it burn.”

  


—

  


Youngjae hadn’t known back then that hitting the road would become a big part of his life. He followed the same mind-numbing routine as everyone else in the small town he hailed from. He was just some busboy, stuck with piling away dirty plates day in and day out at the dead-end diner smack dab in the middle of it all. Even the fresh bruises and thoughtless slurs he had endured from his deadbeat father were a product of alcoholic rages and fleeting whims of a predictable quality. He’d been bored out of his wits, but it was the only life he’d ever known.

Daehyun, he was something different. He was a no-good drifter that didn’t belong, who landed himself in and out of jail for grand theft auto and something else folks only whispered about before he had made a pit stop in Youngjae’s town. He was good-looking and charming, qualities plenty of the waitresses and local girls made sure not to overlook when they fawned over him, but what Youngjae saw in Daehyun's eyes was the same wanderlust that plagued his.

Daehyun was his way out.

A single shared glance was all it took for his relationship with Daehyun to revolve around stolen kisses pushed up against the wall of the storeroom; late nights out at the ridge dancing in front of the low beams of Daehyun's pickup, proclaiming something close to love when nobody was looking. And then, somewhere along the line Daehyun pulled up to his driveway one night and did what Youngjae had asked of him. He had murdered his family in cold blood and whisked Youngjae away from a house set aflame on a promise for their happily ever after.

  


—

  


Youngjae catches his breath against the sweaty sheets of their new motel room. The furnishings were showing signs of wear and the drab wallpaper already peeling at the seams, but it was the best they could do for tonight on such a short notice.

“It’s too loud,”

The TV continues in the background of their new motel room, hashing out the sounds of some campy cable porno which Daehyun laughs at before switching it off at Youngjae’s request. He picks up his gun from the bedside table and begins dismantling it for cleaning.

“Don't you know? You were loud yourself not too long ago,” Daehyun teases, peering at Youngjae through the gun barrel. “...Just pass me a smoke.” Youngjae says, aware of the hoarseness of his own voice now that the haze has past.

He tears into the box of cigarettes promptly tossed his way and lights one up. The smoke is almost like inhaling a breath of fresh air, the nicotine settling into his system well and amplifying the dull pleasure still coursing through his veins.

He observes Daehyun’s concentrated face as he clicks each piece of the gun back into place. His lover whistles a broken, but happy-sounding tune as he does so, with a sated smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It's a little afterglow ritual of his Youngjae is fond of, even if he won't admit it.

Youngjae exhales with a frown, lying back against the crumpled sheets. The setting is familiar. He had sought out Daehyun’s touch instead of owning up to the unfamiliar feeling breaking his usual countenance of indifference. He was so used to feeling nothing—the only constant and exception ever being the feel of Daehyun’s skin slick against his, consuming him from the inside-out—that the restlessness from the encounter with the odd clerk a few days back greatly irked him. He should know better than to let some kid get under his skin.

The unsettling feeling continues roiling in his gut and eventually his disdain must show on his face, for Daehyun stops with his ministrations, clicking the last piece of the gun back into place. His attention is on him now. Daehyun rejoins Youngjae on the bedspread, lying flush against him. They stare at the discolored jacquard wallpaper above them.

"It's got its own charm, ain't it?" Daehyun murmurs against the nape of Youngjae’s neck. "Can't sleep?"

"No thanks to you," Youngjae scoffs lightly behind a cloud of smoke but makes it clear the other's embrace isn't unwelcome.

"Gettin' tired of me already?" Daehyun rubs small circles into Youngjae's hip suggestively, voice slowing to a low growl. "I’ll get your mind off of things. Make you feel good. I always can,"

"You always do," Youngjae closes his eyes at the feeling of calloused hands retracing the marks littering down the insides of his thighs—left on him earlier as a gesture of asserting who he'd belonged to.

“That's right. I've still got a lot of things in store for you,”

He hovers over Youngjae now, leaning in close. The cigarette falls out of Youngjae’s grasp, smoldering slowly on the carpet. Youngjae traces his fingers across Daehyun's face, over the features he knows like the back of his hand. His eyes were that of a dreamer’s; the type that dreamt pipe-dreams with the aid of a loaded gun, destined at the end of the day to leave behind girls that would croon his name like a martyr so he wouldn't die forgotten. To Daehyun, a life meant nothing otherwise.

And Youngjae realizes then how they're inevitably on borrowed time.

“What makes you think I’ll be here forever?”

The question doesn't seem to catch Daehyun off guard. It's almost as if he's expecting it, bringing Youngjae's hand to his lips. “You get bored. That's why you chose me. It's all a game, baby —like you said.”

"After all, what's wrong with a little death every now and then?"

Youngjae knows how it's going to end, but Daehyun kisses him into the headboard and that’s always been enough to temporarily curb all those little monsters lurking inside.

  


—

  


The noise seems to drown out into silence and for a good long moment he thinks he's dead. That's until the excruciating pain shoots up his left leg. Youngjae wasn't a stranger to pain— he's been sent to the hospital before with broken ribs and a broken soul, but it still does nothing to desensitize him. He knows it must be bad; he’d felt it twist when he was thrown violently against the dashboard.

Youngjae had stepped on the gas and ran the car right through the roadblock that had been waiting for them. The police car slamming into their side caused the car to rollover into a ditch, the case of money they were harboring spilling its contents all over the backseat. Youngjae fumbles for the case still, managing to pry what's left of it away from the shattered glass.

He doesn't see Daehyun anywhere. He only hears deafening cracks around him in what he thinks is an ensuing gunfight. Imagines—for a split second—those sounds being bullets that have hit their mark. And releases a shaky breath.

Daehyun reappears at the window assuaging his fears, unharmed save for the streaks of blood trickling down the side of his head, pooling around the shell of his ear.

"Baby, hang on tight to me," Daehyun jams his gun into the back waistband of his pants, lifting Youngjae through the busted car window. His leg catches on the side and he muffles a scream of pain.

They fall back out of the ditch and Youngjae surveys the extent of the wreckage. Two of the cop cars were overturned in their favor, wheels still spinning from the crash.

"How did we even survive this?"

"Guess I fucked 'em up real bad," Daehyun states like a joke between the two of them, bursting out into a laughter that Youngjae joins in delirium. 

One car isn’t totaled like the rest; banged up but still upright in good condition. Daehyun's gait grows unsteady as they near it. 

"Looks like...looks like we got lucky." he draws a ragged breath, letting Youngjae down onto his feet. Youngjae notices some blood coming off onto his palm when he removes his hand from the front of Daehyun’s shirt. Daehyun hauls the limp body of an officer out of the driver's side, revealing the key to still be in the ignition. He pauses for a moment, before stopping to cup Youngjae's face and press his gun into Youngjae's hands.

Youngjae attempts to hand the gun back to Daehyun but he shakes his head, slumping into the passenger seat instead.

“I told you before...if things ever went south. I’ve done my time, baby. There’s no way I’m gonna be some lifer,”

"Daehyun—"

"I know it hurts baby, but why don't we drive like we always do?" Daehyun grits his teeth and still manages to bare a grin despite shuddering breaths applying pressure to the wound next to his breastbone.

"Let's give 'em a run for their money,” he whispers.

Then Daehyun's breathing eventually stops and Youngjae blinks back the tear that threatens to escape the confines of his eyes, driving off onto the road that continues clamoring for more. He supposes he'll continue on and see where it ends.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry mostly self-indulgent writing here, but I really enjoy slightly apathetic youngj and trigger happy dae...this went in a totally different direction than it started ;;  
> wrote this in pockets of time during extensive job search, but now that I've got the job thing down pat I'll be able to update unfinished stuff more often hopefully!


End file.
